


Arthur Maxson: An Introspective

by dianasmaximoff



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: A small dive into Maxson's psyche, A study of his motivations, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29810817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianasmaximoff/pseuds/dianasmaximoff
Summary: "He thought of the synths he had come across in the Capital Wasteland; though few and far between, they were certainly a menace to the natural order. While humans had to come into this world born of suffering and struggled to survive, these...things were brought into existence fully formed. While humans knew grief and pain, synths felt no true emotion. While Maxson himself had known great loss in his twenty years, these mechanical menaces could erase all unpleasant memories with a simple mind-wipe, while human beings had to live with their misery. He found himself growing angry at the thought."Just a look at Maxson's internal processes and motivations.
Kudos: 1





	Arthur Maxson: An Introspective

**Author's Note:**

> I've never been a huge fan of the Brotherhood of Steel or Arthur Maxson, but during a recent playthrough, I had a slight epiphany and gained a new appreciation for him. I thought it might be fun to explore Maxson's consciousness a little bit, so I've written this little work about his arrival in the Commonwealth.

He had never liked giving speeches. It had been four years since Arthur Maxson had assumed the role of Elder, and he still felt surges of anxiety when it was time to lead his troops to charge. Despite Owen and Sarah Lyon’s best efforts, the timid boy they knew could never outgrow his childish fear of public speaking. 

But if the Brotherhood was to bring the war to the Institute -- which was, after all, the reason Maxson had hauled the unsuspecting Prydwen crew to the Commonwealth -- then they needed to know what their purpose was for leaving the Citadel. 

He stood stoically in the center of the observation deck, staring down the men and women under his command. They stared back with rapt attention. The door to the observation deck opened, and Paladin Danse and the Vault Dweller entered. He gave a curt nod to the Paladin, who descended the stairs to the main deck. The Vault Dweller took her position in front of him. It was time to begin. 

“Brothers and Sisters, the road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty.” He hoped they couldn’t tell he was nervous, but he did hope the Brotherhood knew how proud he was of them. “Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth. You have accomplished this feat without a hint of purpose or direction, and most impressively, without question.” It was true, once Paladin Danse had begun reporting back about strange signals coming from the remains of C.I.T., Maxson had rallied an elite team of soldiers, coordinated needed updates to the Prydwen, and took leave of the Citadel. Though none of the soldiers knew why Maxson so urgently arranged this mission, they had prepared themselves incredibly well for this engagement. 

“Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission. Beneath the Commonwealth there is a cancer...known as the Institute, a malignant growth that needs to be cut before it infects the surface.” He thought of the synths he had come across in the Capital Wasteland; though few and far between they were certainly a menace to the natural order. While humans had to come into this world born of suffering and struggled to survive, these...things were brought into existence fully formed. While humans knew grief and pain, synths felt no true emotion. While Maxson himself had known great loss in his twenty years, these mechanical menaces could erase all unpleasant memories with a simple mind-wipe, while human beings had to live with their misery. He found himself growing angry at the thought. 

“They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world’s undoing for the second time in recent history. The Institute scientists have created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb. They call their creation the ‘synth,’ a robotic abomination of technology that is free-thinking and masquerades as a human being. The notion that a machine could be granted free will is not only offensive, but horrible dangerous. And like the atom, if it isn’t harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct as a species.” He was seething with rage at this point but attempted to remain collected. It would be unbecoming of a man of his importance to lose his temperament in front of his soldiers. He took a deep breath in to steady himself.

“I am not prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation. Therefore, the Institute and their synths are considered enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel, and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly.” 

His eyes focused back onto his soldiers, still at attention, looking at him with pride. They looked ready for battle, but were they? Many of the soldiers under his command were hardly as old as he was; he was a child, leading children to face off against an unknown, unseen enemy. One who could be everywhere and nowhere. He knew the road to victory was going to be filled with blood, and the thought unnerved him for the briefest of moments, but he could never let any of his soldiers see his resolve slide. 

“This campaign will be costly,” he said with a fierce resolution, “and many lives will be lost.” For the briefest moment, a terrifying image flashed through Arthur’s mind: Paladin Danse, his closest friend and most trusted ally, lying lifeless at Arthur’s feet. He shook the image as far away as it would go, but it lingered like a premonition. “But in the end, we will be saving humankind from its worst enemy...itself. Ad Victoriam!” 

“Ad Victoriam,” came the soldiers’ rallying cry. They were so resolved, so trusting of him and his leadership. The Vault Dweller lingered behind as the soldiers dismissed. Good, Maxson thought, he needed to talk with her. She would be instrumental to his plans to defeat the Institute. No one was a better ally than someone with a personal stake in the fight. He would know, his consuming hatred of Super Mutants hadn’t truly started until Sarah Lyons was slain in battle by one of the creatures. Though her death had come almost a decade prior, Maxson did not think he would ever truly recover. He wondered constantly what kind of Elder she would have been, and how differently his life would look right now if she was still there to guide him. Would she be proud of the leadership he displayed? 

He turned to face the Vault Dweller. She was looking at him curiously. He could tell she was not as inspired by his speech as the more seasoned Brotherhood soldiers. And he knew she had no reason to be, though he knew he had to get on her good side as quickly as possible. There was a mention in Danse’s report that she had recently come to head the Commonwealth Minutemen. He knew then that they shared a similar goal: a better future. Perhaps that would be the connection he needed. 

“I care about them you know,” he said resolutely. “The people of the Commonwealth.”

There was a pregnant pause, almost too long, as the Vault Dweller drilled her eyes into him. She was searching him for any ulterior motives. He heard her murmur under her breath. 

“If you say so.” 

He was a little miffed, not used to being questioned by those under his command. Though, he supposed, she wasn’t really under his guide. Up until a few hours ago, she had no idea he even existed. All she knew was Paladin Danse, and though she had already proved she was willing to follow Danse without question, he wasn’t quite as...charming as Danse was. He knew he had to be somewhat forgiving. 

“I can understand your indecisiveness. Turning your weapons on the very same people that you’re trying to save can be a bitter pill to swallow.” There it was again -- that flash of Danse, dead at his feet. What was happening to him? 

“So what do you want from me?” She was still studying him. It was almost unnerving. 

“I want you to start taking responsibility for this planet. To start making a difference. And from what I’ve read in Paladin Danse’s reports, you’ve already begun that journey. Seeing as he’s one of my most respected field officers, you couldn’t get a better recommendation” 

After all, Maxson noted, she was leading the Minutemen quite well. They had already established settlements from the northernmost parts of the Commonwealth down to near the Glowing Sea. It certainly must have been a challenging task to coordinate all those people and supplies into a cohesive protection unit. She had left quite the impression on Paladin Danse, and though Arthur would never fully admit it, on the Elder himself. 

“Therefore,” he continued, “from this moment forward, I’m granting you the rank of Knight. And, befitting your title, we’re granting you a suit of Power Armor to protect you on the field of battle. Wear it with pride.”

At that, he noted the hint of surprise that glimmered over the Vault Dweller’s face.

“I’ll do my best to live up to it.” 

“I’m certain that you will.” And he was going to make her test that quite soon, as he was going to ship her right into the Super Mutant-infested Fort Strong. 

“In any event, once you’ve familiarized yourself with the Prydwen and my staff, report to the Flight Deck for your new orders. Welcome aboard the Prydwen, soldier. Make us proud.” 

She nodded curtly and dismissed herself to retrieve Paladin Danse from the Main Deck. He faced back towards the Observation Deck windows. The Commonwealth below seemed so quiet, so unassuming. He wondered if the citizens there knew what Brotherhood meant for them. More importantly, he wondered if they knew what the Brotherhood wanted to do for them. 

It was all for them, he thought, all because he cared.


End file.
